The night Hank Aaron broke what many believed to be an unbreakable home-run record, I was 17 and didn't give a whit about baseball.

Even so, I was swept up in the national euphoria over the milestone event, celebrating what TV and a major case of goose bumps told me was a magical moment.

On Tuesday, when Barry Bonds smacked his 756th homer into the stands to break Aaron's record, the television was on, but the goose bumps -- the human body's involuntary, can't-fake-it reaction to sudden wonder or excitement -- never showed.

Not even when the fans went nuts and the flashbulbs flashed and fireworks exploded like they did that night in 1974. And certainly not when the new home-run king, as Bonds has thus been crowned, loped leisurely around the bases, savoring a moment that an avalanche of evidence suggests he had not earned on his own.

That the celebration had to go on there is no question, since there remains no rock-solid proof that Bonds ever took performance-enhancing drugs (no eye rolls, please). He did, after all, swat every one of those 756 baseballs, and serious baseball fans are serious about their stats and keeping them straight.

But the celebration and the hoopla surrounding it spoke volumes about the things we Americans revere. About the things that give us goose bumps.

Giants fans in full denial were naturally delirious over Bonds' achievement and there was the suggestion by more than one commentator that we should savor the moment, go with the flow and understand that breaking the greatest record in all of sports is a big deal, drugs or no drugs.

Sorry, no can do.

Instead we might ponder the truly great moments of Tuesday night's game. Moments a thoughtful parent can still share with impressionable youngsters.

One of those moments came just after Bonds hit his homer, thereby securing his and Washington Nationals pitcher Mike Bacsik's place in baseball lore.

With nothing to do but stand and watch after allowing the biggest-of-all home runs, Bacsik turned to Bonds and did a very un-Bonds-like thing.

He tipped his hat.

What a gracious thing to do, what a genteel courtesy.

As Bacsik would later tell reporters, "You either have to be a really special player to be remembered in this game, or be part of a special moment."

Of course no one was more gracious than Aaron himself, who congratulated Bonds via video on his "becoming baseball's career home run leader." Class act that he is, Aaron will probably never say another word about Bonds and his No. 756, but if he chooses to rise above the fray, we should let him.

There were other thrilling moments this week that had nothing to do with sports. How about that moment Wednesday when teacher-astronaut Barbara Morgan flew into space aboard the space shuttle Endeavour, some 20 years after watching friend and fellow teacher Christa McAuliffe perish in the Challenger explosion? News photos of Morgan just before lift-off are portraits in courage and sheer joy.

And, speaking of courage, what about Army Capt. Brennan Goltry, who was just awarded the Silver Star? After being ambushed and shot -- twice -- in the leg, the 27-year-old Bakersfield native still managed to lead his soldiers into battle. If that doesn't give you goose bumps, you are not American.

Breaking Aaron's record was a big deal, no argument there. But the road to that record is forever tarnished, whether Bonds admits it or not. Let others celebrate it if they wish. I'll get my goose bumps somewhere else.